The Right Family Ties
by ohmygodagiantrock
Summary: Seto receives an unexpected letter from a relative he hasn't seen since before the orphanage, inviting him to a family reunion. Instead of burying the note where he likes to keep his past, Seto decides to attend the event, and tries to instate his own definition of "family".


Hello, all. ohmygodagiantrock checking in. This idea came to me recently, and because it seemed simple enough, I decided to derail progress on my current (original) project for the cause.

A few quick notes: I'm sorry for all the OC's, but I really had no choice with this type of piece. The names and relationships are all made up, but as many details from canon that I could use, I did.

This is a one-shot, since in general OC-heavy stories don't tend to be highly popular. But I could possibly have an idea or two to add onto this. Who knows?

I don't know of a surname the Kaiba brothers might have been born with, so rather than creating a name for them, I've always wanted to leave those sacred, private details to the brothers themselves. For the same reason, while I've taken the liberty of creating family members that were never mentioned, I haven't given first names to their birth parents. (However, if anyone has dug up those details and they check out, I'd love to know them.)

Oji-san is a term for uncle, and Oba-san means aunt. Now, then...

* * *

Seto stared down at the envelope on his desktop with a mixture of loathing and smugness. Pride, even. Though he knew the item was nothing but paper, he could barely stand to touch it.

The offending letter was addressed to Seto. But the sender had used the name he was given before Seto had become a Kaiba. He hadn't seen the name in print in years. He hadn't heard it spoken in even longer.

The envelope was addressed to a person who no longer existed; to the version of Seto that had all but died a decade before. The address written on the front belonged to the house he had once lived in as a child, before his parents had died.

A red stamp marked up the front of the envelope with a return-to-sender label. But it hadn't been returned to the sender. It had somehow been forwarded to the Domino City Children's Home—the orphanage where Seto had lived with Mokuba for two long, unhappy years of his childhood.

Seto unfolded the paper for the third time and read over the letter again.

" _Dear Seto and Mokuba,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. Your uncle and I are organizing a family reunion, and we would be delighted to see the two of you there._

 _The event will be held at Jasmine Park, Domino on the second Sunday of June. We will be having a picnic, so please dress accordingly, and feel free to bring a dish to pass._

 _I hope to see you there._

 _Regards,_

 _Nori Oba-san"_

The message was simple; so simple, in fact, that it felt as impersonal as the emails Seto composed for widespread staff.

 _After all these years, we still mean nothing to you._

The thought ran through Seto's mind before he could process it. She was only sending the letter to appease her own selfish guilt.

"What's that?" Mokuba asked with a bouncy tone.

Seto flinched. He hadn't heard him enter the office.

"You don't get a lot of hand-written mail at Headquarters," he commented. "Who's it from?"

Seto stayed silent. He wasn't sure he wanted to do anything with the letter but burn it, let alone show it to Mokuba.

"Nii-sama? Is everything okay?" Mokuba asked after a long pause.

Seto, broken out of his reflection, shoved the letter into the long middle drawer of his desk. He pushed back in his chair and met Mokuba's gaze.

"How much do you remember the Domino orphanage?"

"Huh? That's a little out of the blue." Seto didn't reply. "Well, I think I remember enough. We had a lot more time to play together back then. That's where you taught me chess. And-"

"That's enough. Do you remember anything from before then?"

Mokuba knitted his brows. "Why are you asking about this?"

"Just answer the question."

"Not a lot. How old was I when we got sent there? Two, three? I don't know that I have any specific memories from before then."

"You were three. You don't remember our home, or any of our relatives?"

Mokuba sat down on Seto's desktop. "I think I remember that we lived by a park. You used to take me there a lot."

Seto's face betrayed the faintest of smiles, but it was gone before Mokuba could be sure he'd seen it.

"Jasmine Park."

"Yeah." Mokuba smiled fondly. "I remember there was this giant sand pit we used to play in. It was way bigger than the little box they had in the yard at the orphanage."

"It was a little bigger. But you were a lot smaller then, too."

"Nii-sama, did something happen?"

Seto sighed, and pulled out the envelope again.

"We've been invited to a family reunion."

"Who's family?" Mokuba asked, picking up the letter. He read the name aloud. "I don't know this person."

" _Our_ family, Mokuba," Seto stated slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"Wait. You mean, like...?"

"Do you remember why we were sent to live at the orphanage?" Seto interrupted.

"Our relatives couldn't take care of us after Father died," Mokuba answered, as if he were speaking about people he'd never met.

"They _wouldn't_ take care of us," Seto corrected. "We moved to three different homes before our parents' money was used up, but I don't expect you to remember much about that."

"I only know that because you've told me before."

"Well, you know what happened after the money was gone."

"Who sent this?" He waved the letter.

"Father had a brother, our uncle Haru. The letter was sent by his wife Nuri."

"Should I remember them?"

"We stayed with our grandparents on Father's side for a bit. After about a month, I remember Haru's wife insisting that we come stay with them, so that's what happened. She and her husband had children around our ages, so I thought you would have someone else to play with."

"You said we lived in three homes. Who else did we live with?"

"When Father died, Mother's sister Akita was the first to come get us. I don't know why we didn't stay with them permanently, but we weren't in their house more than a few weeks before we were moved on to our paternal grandparents. Akita was nice enough, but I always figured her husband didn't want to take care of us. They didn't have any children."

"But Haru and Nuri used up all the money?"

"Our inheritance was meant to be used for our care, but as far as I understood, it all went to spoil the other children in a matter of months. When it was gone, they had a perfect excuse to get rid of us. I don't doubt that our grandparents could have anticipated that happening, but they did nothing to prevent it. And none of them were particularly kind to us during it all."

"You don't make it sound much like you really want to go."

Seto considered this a while before answering.

"I think I do, actually."

"What? Why?"

"I think I could fare better at forging ahead in my life if I could show our relatives what we've become without them. I'd love to see the look on some of their faces."

Mokuba looked conflicted. He fidgeted with the torn edges of the envelope.

"And I'm not expecting you to go with," Seto added cautiously, "unless you want to. I won't if you don't want me to, of course. It's not worth that much to me."

"I don't think I mind. I'm not as angry about the whole thing as you seem to be. But maybe I would be if I remembered as much as you do." Mokuba hopped off the desk. "Nii-sama, let's go."

* * *

Seto's decision to dress down for the event proved to be a challenge. His typical wardrobe didn't exactly include a "casual" option.

"Why don't you just buy something new?" Mokuba asked, clapping his feet together as they dangled off the edge of Seto's bed.

"I don't want to put too much effort into this."

"Nobody will know where our clothes came from. I doubt anyone will even think about it."

"That's not the point. I'll know, and the fact that I'll have taken the time to browse through catalogs—forget actually going to a store—will only serve to reinstate how much time these people have robbed me of."

"Okay..."

Seto clicked the button that rotated the clothing rack in his closet. A full round through the rack showed him nothing but high-end business attire, specialty coats and trousers, and shirts that would provide too much coverage to be comfortable at an outdoor event. He went through the garments a second time, just to be sure he hadn't missed anything.

"Why don't you go on and worry about what you're going to wear?" Seto asked, distracted.

Mokuba pushed himself off his stomach. "What do you mean? I'm already dressed."

Seto grimaced. "You're going in _that_?"

Mokuba wore a white t-shirt featuring a spattering of Duel Monsters characters, and a pair of ripped jeans Seto knew he'd told the boy to throw out at least four times.

"What's wrong with this, Nii-sama? We're going to a picnic. This is how people at picnics dress. Or... that's what I've heard, anyway. It's not like I've ever been to one," he shrugged.

Seto rolled his eyes. "Then... go find your coat."

"Nii-sama, it's June."

"Just get out!" Seto growled with frustration.

Mokuba sauntered out of Seto's room chuckling.

In the end, Seto settled for a white button-down shirt with violet pinstripes. He rolled up the sleeves and left the top button undone, opting to wear it un-tucked over a pair of black jeans.

He decided to skip shaving that morning, an act he typically only allowed himself if he were ill to the point of being bedridden. On a whim, he decided to dip into Mokuba's private bathroom for a touch of gel to slick back his chestnut hair.

Mokuba waited by the door leading to the underground parking garage. He had tied his wild hair back, which alone made him look less like himself. When paired with the clothes he's chosen, Mokuba's untidy appearance barely resembled the mostly clean-cut teenaged VP of KaibaCorp.

Mokuba let out a snicker when Seto approached.

"You look nothing like your usual self," Mokuba commented. Seto was about to say something similar to his brother. "Did you steal my hair gel?" he accused.

"Considering the fact that I paid for it in the first place..." Seto quipped.

The businessman stuffed a hand in the pocket of his jeans. Then he promptly removed it, looking entirely uncomfortable with every aspect of his dress.

"Whatever. I'm even more surprised you're letting yourself leave the house with all that stubble. Anyway, which car do you want to take? That's assuming you're against the idea of showing up in a limo, of course."

"Mokuba, no. I've already called a cab."

Mokuba narrowed his eyes. "You're already a pair of thick-rimmed glasses away from dressing up as a hipster. Have you even looked in a mirror?"

"What's your point?"

"No one's going to recognize you. How far do you expect me to go with this whole 'blending in with society' thing?"

"As far as we have to in order to make a point."

"Okay, so we're rich. But so what? Why are you trying so hard to cover that up? I thought you would jump at the chance to throw it in everybody's faces."

"Of course I want to. But rolling into a public park in a mediocre part of town in a mint-silver Lamborghini isn't the first impression I want to make on them."

Mokuba tried to argue his point further, but Seto wouldn't have it. A honk sounded from outside, ending the discussion.

* * *

"Didn't the invitation say something about bringing a dish of food?" Mokuba asked in the back of the cab.

Seto slapped a hand to his forehead in distress.

"You're right! I completely forgot to bring my homemade potato salad, and the onigiri. Mother's recipe, of course. We'll have to turn around."

Mokuba flashed a flat look.

"We're not bringing anything, then?"

"I don't expect to be there long enough to bother with eating food, let alone bringing any."

Seto's eyes were glued out the window as the taxi pulled into the parking lot of Jasmine park. He didn't even glance at the driver as he handed him a stack of bills. He didn't wait for change.

The park had changed over time, but there was no mistaking the feeling of nostalgia that washed over him. Mokuba was at his side, staring out at the wild, grassy field. The playground equipment Seto had been familiar with seemed to have been updated, but still looked more or less the same.

"Does any of this look familiar?" Seto asked his brother.

"Some of it." He pointed to a low fence with a sidewalk that ran along the border of a glistening pond. "I remember walking along that pond with you, talking about stuff."

Seto remembered that well. That pond, in this park, was where Seto had made a promise to Mokuba after their father had died. He's sworn that he would take care of him from then on.

But the pond didn't make that memory special. The belief that he'd done the best he could have as Mokuba's father-figure spoke so much louder. The pond was just a body of water, and Seto refused to get caught up in the romance of nostalgia.

"How are we going to find them?" Mokuba asked after a beat of silence. "I don't know if I would recognize any one of our relatives." He scanned the park, not looking at Seto. "I don't even remember what Father looked like."

Seto didn't respond to this.

The grass was peppered with families with young children and blankets spread beneath baskets of food, but a small pavilion shaded a large group of nearly twenty people who all seemed to be present together.

"I'm wagering a guess that the congregation over there might be our target."

Mokuba glanced over, seeming to see the gathering for the first time. But he didn't move.

"So, what do we do? How are we supposed to introduce ourselves?" His voice held a touch of nervousness. He wiped his hands on his shirt absently.

But Seto began walking pointedly toward the pavilion.

He spotted an empty picnic table, near enough to the pavilion to clearly make out faces, but far enough away to not be considered part of the group. He stopped abruptly and sat down, causing Mokuba to nearly trip over his own feet.

"Warn me when you're gonna do that, huh?" he muttered. "Now what are we doing?"

"Scoping." His eyes were on the group of people.

"What does that even mean?"

"I recognize a few faces right away. We've definitely found the right place."

Mokuba settled in at the table, watching.

"I don't see our grandparents. I wonder if they're still alive," Seto said after a while, not seeming to realize how overly-casual he sounded.

"Who do you recognize, then?"

"I see Oba-san, the woman who sent the invitation. She's the stout woman carrying that large basket around a table," Seto described without pointing.

"I think I see her. Who else?"

The gathering was larger than Seto had expected, although less than twenty people at a family reunion was likely, by somebody's standards, small. He doubted he could name half the people, and he didn't see any children.

"Most of them are probably spouses and in-laws of our parents' siblings."

They sat for a while, watching. Seto was unable to name the emotion that kept tugging at his gut, but he knew he didn't like it. He already felt eager to leave. The smell of food wafting toward him—some of it even smelling familiar—didn't help. He began devising a strategy to approach the reunion.

He became so focused that he hadn't noticed the wild rustling of leaves overhead until a pattering of twigs dropped onto the table, one of them even bouncing off Seto's gelled hair. The voices of children rang out from behind them.

"That was your fault, Kana!"

"Yeah, now you have to go get it!"

Seto tried his best to ignore the irritation. He brushed the twig from his hair and focused on the pavilion.

"Um, excuse me?" came a small voice from behind him.

Seto turned around to see a young, pretty girl, no older than ten, tugging at his shirt. She was flanked by two boys who might have been a little older, but weren't much taller at all.

The girl had dark hair and gentle features, but what stood out to him the most were her eyes. The deep violet hues looked so strikingly familiar that Seto couldn't speak.

He could swear he'd seen this child in a photograph, buried somewhere in a memory. It struck him then that she had his mother's gentle eyes.

"Mister?" she asked sweetly. "Can you please get my toy? It's stuck."

Seto's irritation dissolved.

The girl pointed up into the tree that hung above the picnic table. Seto had to blink just to refocus before he could look away from the child. Above him in the tree a large flat disc, complete with neon streamers, was entangled in the branches. The toy looked like some kind of Frisbee made to be easier for young children.

Without a word, Seto climbed onto the picnic table. The disc was within his grasp, though one of the streamers tore off when he tugged it free. He placed a hand on the tabletop for balance and leapt straight to the ground.

The little girl reached for the toy, but the two boys tried to grab it first. Seto yanked it out of their reach, making the two boys complain.

"Give us our toy!" One of them said.

"Yeah, it's ours! You can't have it!" Cried the other.

"Trust me," Seto said in a low voice. "I don't want it. But I don't recall either of you politely asking me to retrieve it for you."

"Whatever," the first boy grumbled. "Just give it back."

"Kana can't throw it right anyway," the second boy said. He gave the girl a shove.

Seto, narrowing his eyes at the scene, considered breaking the toy, which seemed like nothing more than a hula-hoop wrapped in light fabric.

But before he could reply to the two boys, the girl spun around and shoved back.

"Shut up," she said dangerously, her face inches from theirs. "Mama said if you're not nice to me, you'll both be grounded. For a _month_."

"Tch, whatever."

"She can't do that."

But both boys—Seto decided they were probably brothers—pretended to lose interest. To Seto's surprise, when they left, they walked straight toward the pavilion.

Seto placed the toy gently in the girl's hands. He could feel Mokuba's eyes on him.

"Thank you, Mister," she smiled gleefully. "Sorry about them. They're my brothers."

Kana's words cut Seto more deeply than he'd expected. The two boys were her brothers—older brother, no less—and treated her so poorly?

"Never mind," he said gently. "You handled that well. You stood up for yourself. Don't ever tell somebody you're sorry for that. They're the ones who need to apologize."

She held her smile, glancing between Seto and Mokuba. "Do you want to play with me? I bet you're both way better than my brothers."

Seto opened his mouth to reply—he wanted to get to know the girl—when an unmistakable bark sounded above the noise.

Seto looked up to see a slender man stamping toward him, almost as tall as Seto himself. He would have recognized the man just by his voice, but the dark hair and gaunt face left no question. The man was Seto's uncle. Even twelve years later, he looked so much like Seto's father.

"Who are you?" the man demanded. "I've been watching you two punks since you sat down here. What do you want?"

Seto noticed Mokuba shrink back, and he wondered if perhaps Mokuba remembered more than either of them realized. Over his uncle's shoulder, Seto saw that more than half of the crowd—his own family—was watching him. He doubted that any one of them knew who he was.

Instead of answering his uncle's question, he turned to the little girl. He gathered that she must belong to Seto's other aunt and uncle, on his mother's side. She must have been the man's niece. Seto's cousin.

"Your name's Kana, is it?"

She nodded. Her smile had faded, but she didn't move any closer to her uncle.

In a voice loud and clear enough for most of the reunion to hear, Seto addressed her.

"Have you heard of the amusement park KaibaLand?"

The mention of the park brought glee to the young girl's face again.

"Of course! I've never been there, though," she shrugged, but she seemed clearly disappointed by this fact.

Seto opened his wallet and pulled out a white business card, with nothing but a Blue Eyes White Dragon emblem stamped in shimmering blue ink.

"My name's Kaiba," he announced. "And this is my brother. We run the corporation that designs those parks."

"Really?"

Seto nodded, kneeling down. "Yes. Any time you want to visit, you can show them this card, and you'll get in for free. It's a special privilege, and we don't hand it out often."

Kana's eyes grew wide as saucers.

Then, after throwing a glance over his shoulder at the two boys, he added quietly, "Make sure you write your name on it, so no one else can use it."

Seto tried to hand the card to her, but her uncle intercepted it.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Seto plucked the card back out of his uncle's fingers and passed it to Kana.

"My name is Seto, _Oji-san_. My brother's name is Mokuba. Pardon my _insolence_ ," he said arrogantly, "but we were invited to this gathering. I was having a pleasant exchange with my kid cousin before you butted in and ruined it."

Seto dared a glance at the crowd behind his uncle. Every face was turned his way. A silence settled over them.

"But then, you have a history of ruining good things, don't you, Oji-san?" Seto added.

"Who...?"

"Seto?" came a woman's voice. "Seto, is that you?"

A short, pudgy woman popped out from the crowd, heading straight for Seto and Mokuba. She was followed by an older-looking woman with cropped auburn hair.

Kana dashed to them, flashing the white card.

"Oba-san! Mama! Look!" The slender woman held her arms open for the girl, but the stout woman disregarded her.

"Oh, and Mokuba, dear," the pudgy woman said. "I haven't seen you since you were just a toddler!"

She looked like she was suppressing the urge to pinch his cheeks. Mokuba clearly didn't recognize her.

"Nori Oba-san," Seto nodded. But his eyes kept drifting to the second woman who had stayed back, to whom Kana clung. She, Seto knew, was his mother's sister. Her name was Akita, and he remembered liking her. Her husband, on the other hand, was a different story.

"You know him?" Seto's paternal uncle said to his wife with narrow eyes.

"He's your nephew, Haru! Show a little courtesy."

" _Courtesy_? When a strange man approaches a child-"

"Kana is not your child, Haru," Akita stepped in. "She's mine, and unlike you I don't find myself offended."

"And neither did I approach her," Seto amended. Even with his mother's sister present, he felt his icy walls rising. "But this petty argument shows me that I haven't missed out on much by not being here my whole life."

"Seto," the stout woman cooed. "Please don't talk like that."

Seto leveled a glare at her. What place did she have to say such things to him?

"You said your name is Kaiba," Haru said, indignant. "As in the heir of the Kaiba Corporation."

"I _was_ the heir, until I became president," Seto answered as if he were telling Haru that the sky was blue. "But Kaiba wasn't always my name. You know who I am, Oji-san, whether you choose to remember my brother and me or not."

Haru was taken aback, and didn't speak.

"We lived in your house, with your rotten children, while we watched them enjoy the benefits of our late father's life savings in the form of toys. Is any of this sounding familiar?"

Haru didn't speak.

"You don't know what you're talking about," one of the boys at Haru's heel barked.

"I lived with your aunt and uncle until they dumped us at an orphanage. Your cousins were rotten brats then, and I don't expect much has changed since."

Both of the boys fumed, glancing at the adults for support, but they remained silent.

Haru leveled a glare at his wife.

"Why did you invite them? Did you think this was a good idea?" Then he said in a low hiss, as if Seto wouldn't hear, "Look how much pain it's causing them!"

Seto laughed. "You think I'm the one in pain? Let me explain something to you, Haru. I don't feel any pain when I wake up every day in the master bedroom of my manor, to a breakfast prepared by a renowned kitchen staff. I don't feel any pain when I drive my Lamborghini to the KaibaCorp offices where I change the lives of children across the world."

Seto paused when he noticed a young man and woman approaching. The woman was shorter than Seto by only half a head, and looked to be in her early or mid-twenties. She wore a smug expression to match his own.

The man had a softer face, looking to be in his late teens. Seto stalled a moment, but soon recognized them as the spoiled children he had once shared a home with. The sour expressions on their faces spoke volumes.

"Little Seto," the woman mocked. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Ariana. What a pleasure," he said with disgust. "I suppose I owe you a bit of gratitude."

The woman's expression grew even more smug.

Seto remembered that she was several years older than him, the oldest child of his generation. But that didn't grant her the right to cruelty, nor did it make her immune to payback.

"You were the first person in my life to teach me how to be distrustful and guarded. You helped equip me with weapons necessary to make it in the cut-throat business world I live in. Like the exquisite art of back-stabbing, for example."

Ariana's face fell with surprise, then she looked angry.

"Of course, my adoptive father did far more to prepare me than you ever could, even at your worst, so I'm not convinced you deserve a proper 'thank you'."

Then Ariana laughed.

"You've never been more than a sad little boy who misses his mommy," she patronized.

Seto narrowed his eyes, but didn't bother to say more. She'd helped him learn about bullies, too. Her comment was bait, and it didn't deserve a response. He turned back to his uncle, but dropped the respectful term of Oji-san.

"Haru, I certainly don't feel any pain when I attend ribbon-cutting ceremonies for the KaibaLand amusement parks, as a twenty-year old already realizing his childhood dreams. I don't owe an ounce of this to you or your wife. So in return for all you've done for my brother and I, you can be certain you don't cross my mind at all anymore."

Haru looked deeply offended. Nuri stepped forward as if she wanted to say something, but she kept silent.

Akita came forward, however, and offered Seto and Mokuba a sad smile.

"My sister wouldn't have wanted this," she said.

Seto was glad to see her husband didn't seem to be around. He expected that the man still had an effect on her life, one way or another, based on the way her sons behaved.

He had an easier time thinking about this than about the woman speaking so comfortably of his mother.

"If I'd have known how to contact you, I would have suggested that you didn't come."

"I only wanted to be here so I could show this family—if this sad bunch can even claim that title—that Mokuba and I have never been regarded as part of this family since the day our father died. But we're no worse for the wear because of that fact."

Mokuba, who had been standing silently by Seto's side, finally spoke up, addressing Akita.

"I'm sorry that I don't remember you. Nii-sama told me we used to live with you. I understand why we were moved from the other houses, but I want to know why we had to leave yours."

"Because Akita lets her husband control her," Nuri snarled.

Akita's eyes glistened.

"I'm sorry Seto, Mokuba. Your mother would have wanted better than this."

"We've had better than this," Seto barked. But he felt a recoil from his words as soon as they hung in the air. He hadn't meant to snap at Akita. If nothing else, she was Kana's mother, and Kana seemed like a sweet, strong girl.

"I understand." She looked him up and down. "You look like you lead a successful life. Who wouldn't want that above this bunch of angry, misled people?"

Nuri huffed indignantly, then stalked off to the pavilion where several people were still gathered.

"If I had had a chance to keep you in my home when you two were children I would have." She looked at Mokuba. "I admit, I did let my husband control me, and the two of you by extension. It wasn't fair, and I hope that someday you'll believe that I'm sorry."

Kana, who had been fidgeting with her toy, tugged on Akita's sundress.

"Mama? Mama, can I still go to KaibaLand someday?"

"We'll see, sweetheart," Akita appeased. "But Mister Kaiba is surely a busy man. We don't want to take advantage of his generosity," she said quietly.

"But he said we're cousins. Mama, are we really cousins?"

"Yes, Kana," Akita smiled. "You are."

Kana grinned at Seto and Mokuba, looking entirely pleased at this.

Seto, who had been silent a long while, finally spoke.

"As I mentioned, I work to improve the lives of children. My entire career revolves around that principle. Adults," he grimaced, glaring at most of the crowd, his eyes resting on Ariana and her brother, "in my experience are too far gone, but I'm always willing to help a child. Kana is welcome at KaibaLand whenever she would like."

The two boys pushed their way to through their family members until they were standing at Kana's side.

"What about us?" one of them grunted.

"He didn't say you can come," Kana stated. The second boy shoved her.

"Boys, that's enough!" Akita called in a stern voice that sounded all too much like his mother's.

Seto didn't have many memories of his mother, and even fewer of her yelling at him. But that familiar no-nonsense tone that Seto had no doubts he had inherited from his mother, seemed to be embedded so deeply in his core that it could still curdle his blood.

"One more word out of either of you, and you're both grounded. For a month!" Akita warned, and Seto felt a shiver run down his own spine.

"If Kana's brothers decide to come to KaibaLand," Mokuba announced cheerfully, "Seto and I will be delighted to take every opportunity to teach them what being family _really_ means."

The boys both stepped back an inch. Seto smirked, giving a curt nod.

"Well said, little brother," he said, placing an affectionate hand on Mokuba's shoulder and giving a squeeze.

Then Seto fixed his gaze on Haru and Nuri, and their two model adult children.

"This has been a wonderful reunion. I hope you've appeased your senses of guilt or shame, or whatever emotion compelled you to send that letter, though I doubt you ever expected me to receive it. In the future, if such a notion comes over you again, feel free to ignore it. I've said all I've ever needed to say to you. You won't be hearing from us again."

Seto glanced down at Mokuba. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his expression looked distant. His eyes darted from Kana to the parking lot. He looked suddenly surprised to see a sleek black limousine, Isono waiting to open the door.

"If you're ready, then?" Seto asked quietly. Mokuba nodded.

"Seto, Mokuba?" Akita called. Seto peered over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Your mother and father would have been-"

"Don't," he interrupted sternly. "I don't live my life hoping to make my dead parents proud. They're gone, and anything they could have felt if they were here can't help me."

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to... well." She pursed her lips.

"I know. But I live my life to build up my brother. His approval and support is all I need."

"I understand."

Seto offered one last nod and the hint of a smile toward Kana and Akita and walked away, Mokuba at his heels.

They slipped into the waiting limousine without another glance at the crowd.

"That really wasn't how I was expecting things to go," Mokuba said once the limousine pulled away.

"This is a life we've never been a part of, Mokuba. And as far as I'm concerned, we have no place with them. If Kana ever wants to visit us, she would be welcome. But how can we pretend to be people we've never been, all to fit in with a family we've never known?"

"I guess you're right. I feel bad about Kana, though. She seemed like a nice girl, but her brothers were rotten."

"She reminds me of Mother," Seto said, surprising even himself.

Not knowing how to respond, Mokuba simply said, "I hope Kana visits."

When the brothers returned home, they settled into their afternoon routines at Kaiba Manor. Their home was quiet, nearly empty aside from the staff preparing an evening meal.

Seto felt the familiar emptiness of his home wash over him. He had lived in the building since he was ten years old, and Mokuba only five. It was no longer a frighteningly large mansion, or a dreamland to escape the run-down orphanage.

It was home. And it was empty, but it wasn't lonely. Seto and Mokuba had family; all the family they needed.

* * *

A/N: I have sorely missed writing my favorite sibling pair. I feel like I've needed this scene for a while. Canon makes it clear in places that Seto and Mokuba have family other than their deceased parents. I've always wondered what would happen if a meeting came about.

For anyone who's interested, I've not abandoned this site. I've put my fanfiction writing on hold since October, when I got involved in planning for NaNoWriMo. I managed to finish an original project, and I've been very absorbed in the editing process. I'll be here periodically, whenever I need a break. I currently have no FFN projects in the works-or, if I do, I'll want to start fresh when I'm ready to make progress on an idea.

That being said, I appreciate the interest and support!

Thanks so much,

~omgagr


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